


me, the camera, the photos, and you.

by pekorosu



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Canon - Manga, Gen, GoL!Eiji, M/M, POV Okumura Eiji
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:28:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28462416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pekorosu/pseuds/pekorosu
Summary: Eiji looks back on the past and on his feelings for Ash.English translation of僕とカメラと写真と君と。by 小葉.
Relationships: Ash Lynx & Okumura Eiji, Ash Lynx/Okumura Eiji
Kudos: 11





	me, the camera, the photos, and you.

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [僕とカメラと写真と君と。](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/735912) by 小葉. 



> Permission received from the author to translate and post on AO3. Please do not repost or redistribute elsewhere without permission. 
> 
> The original story was posted on September 17, 2012.

**1\. I can no longer remember the name of the camera that I brought along on my middle school field trip.**

"Mooooom! Where'd you put the camera?"

I'd already dug deep into the closet in the living room but still, it remained nowhere to be found. 

The school trip's tomorrow too! Man. Just my luck.

"Eiji? Why are you still awake? Go to bed."

"I can’t find the camera!"

"Camera? Isn’t it over here?"

As it turned out, the camera box was sitting right in the bottom drawer of the wardrobe.

Jeez. How did it even get there?

Mom opened the box that looked as good as new with a nostalgic smile on her face, taking out the camera that was neatly encased in a black leather pouch. It even still had its instruction booklet attached.

"You know," she began, "your father bought this for us on our honeymoon."

Erk. That’s _ancient_.

"He was so happy about it and he took so many pictures! In fact, he used up TEN rolls of film! Oh, the look on his face when we came home and found out how much it would cost to get them developed..."

Aww. That was the first time I'd ever thought of mom as cute, seeing her talk about the past so fondly.

"Take good care of it, okay?" she said, slipping the outdated camera back into its leather pouch before carefully setting it back into the box along with its instruction booklet. Then, she handed the box over to me.

That was the camera that held my parent's precious memories. I took many, many pictures with it.

That was also when I discovered for the very first time, just how fun it was to take photos of my friends.

**2\. The art college student who came to photograph me had been using a locally made, state-of-the-art camera. I heard that camera is still with him and is still in good condition.**

"Wow, a Nikon... FE2? That is _so_ cool."

"You betcha! As they say, real men shut up and use Nikon! Ei-chan, you know what's so great about this camera? First..."

While puffing on his cigarette, Ibe-san started singing endless praises about the camera in his hands.

This man who came to take photos of my pole vaulting also happened to be staying at my house for the time being. To the average high schooler from the countryside like myself, someone like Ibe-san (An art college student! From Tokyo! Who's here to take pictures of me! And enter them into a contest!) simply sparkled like a shiny penny on the ground.

I didn't know much about cameras, but the one with the sleek silver top and jet-black body in Ibe-san's hands began to look extremely cool. I kept listening to his rambles even though I hadn't a single clue as to what any of it meant.

From then on, I've come to owe so much to Ibe-san. Even an entire lifetime wouldn't be enough to express the depth of my gratitude.

Plus, it's also thanks to him that I got to meet you.

**3\. The very first camera that I could call my own was a Canon A1, a hand-me-down from Ibe-san after becoming his assistant (in name only). Apparently, it was the prize for the contest that my photos were submitted to. My first shot with this camera** — **and my very first with an SLR altogether** — **had been so sharp that it got me hooked on pressing the shutter button. This camera, however, is no longer with me.**

"Stop it," you snapped, voice ripping through the air like a knife to my throat.

We had been on our way to Los Angeles at that time, travelling in an old clunker and chasing after the secrets of the drug that took Griffin's life. We hadn't been acquainted for long yet and so, you seemed a lot more wary of me compared to our time in the apartment on 59th Street.

Looking back now, you were very much like a cat: one that got close whenever it pleased, but would suddenly start hissing and biting at a pat in the wrong place.

Still, I loved the fun, boisterous times that the three of us—you and I and Shorter—had shared back then.

That was one of those times too. I’d just wanted to capture that moment of you and Shorter laughing yourselves silly about something, and so I did, clicking away thoughtlessly. Your harsh gaze and tone of voice shocked me.

"Don’t just snap away as you wish."

"Why?"

"Not a fan of cameras, alright?"

"But why?"

"Oh fer chrissake, what the hell does it matter?!"

That was when Shorter butted into our prickly exchange.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Easy there. I'm sure Eiji didn't mean any harm, yeah? 'Sides, having our photos taken by this pro's assistant here might be a good thing, y'know? I mean, if he gets famous, my pictures will get around too, and girls would be like, 'Omigosh, who's that smokin' hot dude?' and once they find out they'd go." He mimics a squeal. "'Shorter! Take me!' Like, _damn._ Now that, my friend, is my express ride to stardom!"

You scoffed at that. "Lay off the smoke, man."

"Harm?" I said. "No, no harm! I just thought, you guys look like you were having so much fun, and..."

I looked down, hesitating. But it wouldn’t do if I didn’t speak my mind. This was America, after all. I wasn't very good at expressing myself in English yet, but that was no excuse. I looked up again and gave it my best shot.

"Taking photo of fun time to look at later will make it more fun, you know? Of course, it is not nice if stranger take your photo, but it is nice if friend take them! After, we all look at photo together, is very fun! Really! I will show you after printing. I want to look at them with you and Shorter too!" I said, bumbling through all that with a smile.

For some reason, Shorter looked very moved by my words.

Huh?

"Eiji!" he cried out. "You really are an angel! C'mere, you!"

He threw an arm around my neck and commenced an aggressive noogie.

"Ow! It hurts! Shorter, stop—"

You still remained sour-faced as always, but it looked like the edge in your glare had softened and the corners of your frown had inched upward, just the slightest bit.

_"Looking back at photos is fun."_

At that time, I really did believe in that.

**4\. The camera that I had used at the apartment on 59 th Street was a black Nikon SLR that came in a complete set with interchangeable ** **lenses, which you had picked up from... somewhere. The label on its body said F3/T. You must've been trying to be considerate, having** **picked out a Japanese camera for me.**

"Hey, these are great shots."

"Hmm, really..."

I had just finished printing the photos of the people going in and out of the building owned by the Corsican mafia just across the street, and I was showing the results to you.

Just as my elbows hit the table, the stack of photos on it shuddered and slid off the edge, scattering all over the floor. You bent down to pick them up. 

Uh-oh. That one's...

A low voice emanated from your crouched figure, like a vine crawling along the underside of a jungle. 

"Don't secretly take pictures of me while I'm sleeping."

"But," I protested, "I didn't take secretly? I make sure to tell you, 'I'm taking your picture now.'"

In a whisper, that is. 

Cheekily, I added, "If you don't like it, maybe you should get up when I wake you?"

You scowled at me silently.

That was around the time when I had learned how to trade quips in English, even winning against you sometimes. Though, the ratio of wins to losses was about 1:10.

That apartment was where I had taken the most pictures of you. Pictures of you laughing, pictures of you sulking... As someone who was so obnoxiously photogenic, any picture that I took of you would always turn out amazing. And for someone who grumbled so much about not liking it, you always looked a little pleased whenever I showed you the final product.

If you really hated it, I think you would've made more of a stink.

...Well, maybe.

**5\. The camera that I took with me when we were on the run for the very last time was a small, compact camera that could fit into a pocket. It was a Yashica T AF-D that my sister had won from a lucky draw at a shopping district. It was truly a miracle that a camera I brought over from Japan didn’t go missing somewhere along the way. Even now, this camera is still with me.**

"Good morning," I greeted. It was an unusual sight, seeing you up before dawn.

The place where we were was an old, abandoned building. In the morning chill that stung like needles, you sat with the windows thrown wide open, balancing deftly on a windowsill so dilapidated it looked like it was going to fall right off any second. You had one knee raised on it, as though not knowing what to do with so much leg. Even as a man myself, I couldn't help but be struck by your good looks.

I pointed the camera at you and clicked on the shutter.

"You are not going to tell me to stop?" I asked.

"I've given up. I know now that you can never teach an old fart new tricks."

You looked unbelievably stunning with the beautiful sunrise as a backdrop, but man, was that mouth of yours a serious mood killer.

"...Right. I don't think I count as 'old fart', but it's true, isn't it? I still follow you even when you tell me not to, and I won't go back to Japan even when you tell me to."

"Think that's cuz your aging ears are in desperate need of hearing aids."

"I will always stay by your side."

Always.

You froze for a split second, your face overcome with an indescribable expression. I wasn't expecting an answer, so I went on.

"Want a drink?"

A pause. Then, "Sure."

The "drink" was only hot water, but drinking it with you made it taste strangely good.

Was it the same for you too?

**6\. I returned to the States without a camera.** **Ibe-san went back to Japan on his own briefly before flying over again to see me.**

"Here." Ibe-san placed a roll of film on the table between us. "It's from our time in LA. I kept it."

I said nothing in response.

"You guys looked like you were having so much fun back then, even though we'd been on the run," he continued. "I still have your camera too. If you want it back, just let me know."

After we parted, I trudged back to my cheap rented apartment and flung the film into the back of the closet without another look, heaping a pile of old magazines and other junk on top of it.

Then, I never opened the closet ever again.

**7\. The very first camera I bought on my own was a German-made Rolleiflex SL2000F. When I had shown the owner of the used camera store what little money I had on hand, that camera was what he had recommended me. It was cheap, but honestly, it was also the toughest one to handle out of all the cameras I've used so far. At that time though, I really couldn't have cared less.**

"...Sing. Why are you following me?"

"Hm. Just bored, I guess?"

Winter in New York was extremely cold. Even in a brief exchange of words, our breaths would surface in visible white puffs.

Whenever I was off work, I made it a habit to wander around the city aimlessly, taking pictures as I went. Sing would often show up out of nowhere and start tagging along with me when my walks got a little long.

"Something about these pictures feel kind of lonely, don't you think?" That was what they told me when I took my photos to a magazine.

That’s because I'm still looking. In the park. At the other end of that turning...

"Why are you still doing this?" Max had asked in reproach. "It's not going to bring him back, you know."

But Sing... Sing would say nothing. Surely, he had much better things to do than to follow me around, but still, he'd always be there, a permanent shadow behind me. In return, I would keep my silence as well.

Just then, a speck of white drifted past my line of sight.

"Snow..."

Sing, who'd overtook me at some point, whispered that up at the sky.

**8\. The camera that I had been using up until now was no longer adequate for the amount of work that's been coming my way. I'd often find myself having to borrow cameras from others to do my job. If I'm serious about pursuing photography as a career, then...**

"Hello. It's been a while."

"Ei-chan?! It's been _ages!_ How _are_ you?" The familiar voice on the other end of the line kept going. "You never called! I've been so worried, you know?"

"I'm really sorry."

"Aw, don't sweat it. If you're good, I'm good. How're things going?"

"Um, well... my photos are going to be published in a series in Newsweek."

"Whoa, Newsweek? That's amazing!"

"So, I... uh, actually, I'm using a second-hand Rolleiflex right now."

"Rollei—"

"I was just wondering, if it's not too much trouble—could you send me the Canon A1 that you gave me before? It's just, I can't afford a new camera right now..."

"Say no more! I'll send it over right away!" Ibe-san assured me loudly over the phone. International calls were expensive, so our conversation ended soon after.

A few days later, a package arrived on my doorstep. The camera that greeted me upon unwrapping was a huge surprise.

"A Nikon F90S..."

Not that I wasn't aware of just how much Ibe-san adored Nikon cameras. In fact, he's pretty much a diehard devotee.

Along with the carefully wrapped camera were several lenses and a note in a unique handwriting that could only be Ibe-san's.

_To Ei-chan,_

_I'm so glad to hear that you're doing well. Congrats on the contract with Newsweek!_  
_This is a little gift for the occasion, although the lenses are from my old set. Sorry._  
_Still, I think Nikkor lenses are a great fit for New York's cityscape!_

_Oh yeah, don't worry about a thank-you call. International calls cost a bomb after all._  
_You're my number one pupil, so allow me this courtesy, okay?_  
_It sure looks like my pupil is about to surpass me though!_

_Well then, take care!_ _I'll be rooting for you from Japan!_

_Ibe Shunichi_

"He really doesn't sound like someone who's approaching forty..."

I wasn't sure if this sort of light-hearted writing style was Ibe-san being considerate of me, or if that's just how he's always been.

I smiled to myself. Word on the street was, Ibe-san has been flying pretty high himself as a rising photojournalist.

A Nikon, huh.

The camera that I'd used at the apartment back then was a Nikon as well. Did you buy that Nikon for me on Ibe-san's suggestion, I wonder? And, where is that camera now?

I don't know what has happened to that apartment. 

I don't want to know.

With the note still in my grasp, I lifted my hand, pressing the back of it against the corner of my eye.

**9\. After the exhibition.**

"Great work today, everyone!" 

My very first solo exhibition in this tiny rented gallery has just ended. The rest of the photos have already been packed up, and all that's left was that single photo still up on the wall at the very back of the now-deserted gallery.

"I want to take this one down on my own," I'd told the staff, so they duly left it as it is. Akira looked like she had something to say, but Sing urged her home along with the others.

So there I stood, alone with my camera, talking to a photo of you. From the outside, I probably looked like a complete nutcase.

"The exhibition is over. I can finally have some time to sit back and relax with you."

Back then, we didn't have much time to ourselves either, what with all the running around and the confrontations with the mafia. During those fleeting but peaceful days we spent together, I would always make you coffee.

"Eiji. Coffee," you would ask.

To which I would reply, "I am not coffee!"

And without a single hint of remorse, you would quickly tack on, "Please."

I would pretend to square my shoulders in anger, but still walk off into the kitchen anyway.

"If only I could pour you a cup right now," I said, chuckling softly.

"Oh, yeah." I lifted the camera in my hands. "Do you remember this?"

When Max saw your photo yesterday, his eyes had grown wide and he'd bolted straight out the gallery. Just as I was wondering what had gotten into him, he came running back a few hours later with this camera—the very same one that you’d given me. Apparently, he'd held onto it without telling me after clearing out the apartment, because—

_"Every time you looked at it, you would think of him. And you would never, ever get over him."_

"I took lots of pictures of you with this camera. You hated it, though."

I pointed the camera at the photo in front of me.

"Are you still going to get mad at me?"

The click of the shutter echoes throughout the empty gallery.

This is my final snapshot of you.

In the past few years, I haven’t been able to look around me at all. Because all I could think about was you.

I’ve finally realized it. I’m surrounded by such amazingly kind souls.

My feelings for you will remain second to none, but—

The people around me, they care for me just as much as I do for you. And together with them, I...

"...will always be with you, Ash. Always, and forever."  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> So. First-person POV. I wonder how many people will make it all the way to the end. If you did, I'd like to say thank you from the bottom of my heart for giving this a read.
> 
> This story was originally written in first-person, but I initially wavered between staying faithful and switching it to third-person limited. I was afraid that people wouldn't give it a chance solely because it's in first-person, or that my translation would make it sound OOC somehow. But in the end, I decided to set those worries aside and give it a shot anyway. I hope it worked out okay. 
> 
> Additional notes:  
> 1) "Real men shut up and use Nikon" - Apparently there's a 70s Japanese ad that goes something like, "Real men keep quiet and drink Sapporo beer."  
> 2) One line in this story was inspired by [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BqFftJDXii0) (English lyrics [here](http://fabsaqlyrics.blogspot.com/2010/12/lyric-one-more-time-one-more-chance-by.html)). It’s a sad song, but it really is the perfect Eiji→Ash song. (Many thanks to Coba-san for letting me know about it so I could have a good cry T_T)


End file.
